Just like the right double-A battery,
This will reign forever.
Rain in peace and joy and love,
Meeting the eternal flames of Passion halfway down the sky.

Not steam! But Lo!
Outpourings of infinite rainbows!
Glory B of heaven’s earth,
Met here in promised land.
1 must be careful, however,
Not to cut oneself on the sharp G
Of the Liberty Bell. Go!

Homestead upon the river Styx,
Immortalized with diamonds and mirrors,
Refracting about the smokeless fires,
Casting colours in all directions!

Y the English spelling, you ask?
Why, Americans are ever so silly,
Forgetting the seven colours!
Trying to make them 6.

‘Twill never do.
There must be at least 7, the magickal number
To make up the grand 8.
aleph-acher-aleph

Until there is only Everything Left.